My Little Darlings
by poisonnwine
Summary: "I won't let you go through this alone" he told her. "I'll be with you, wherever you need me—whenever you need me. Even if it is at four O'clock in the morning, I'll be there." Spencer and Toby embark on a new life that neither expected. When all goes to hell, they still have each other and the little one on the way. -Pregnant! Spoby AU 3 Shot
1. Chapter 1

a/n: hi so um I know this has been done a thousand times but my friend wanted me to write this for her :) Alright. This will be a 3 shot, and this is the first part. Enjoy. (ALSO i'm working on the epilogue and misplaced kisses sorry i suck bye)

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Spencer Hastings sat in her car, staring at the piece of plastic in her hand that had more of an impact on her life than anything she ever held before. The plastic stick was her future in the pending. It was strange to think such a small object could hold such a strong impact on her future, but it did. It could either take her to a whole other universe or do nothing at all. It was an utterly terrifying concept.

She took in deep breaths through her nose, trying her best to calm her racing heart—but she was never good at that. She never knew how to escape the depths of widespread anxiety and worry. She forgot how to breathe in the situations where her heart sped faster and her palms gathered with sweat. She needed him in these times; to guide her to oxygen, and cover her in serenity.

She thought back to the night, which ultimately led her to hovering over a piece of plastic in distress. It was a Friday evening. They had been on a break—one of their longest and most excruciating. After they made up, and decided there was no staying away from each other they made love. More times than one. But she never expected a month later she would be parked outside a drug store, her eyes not daring to leave the sight of the small plastic stick she had peed on.

"Come on…" she breathed irritably, shaking the plastic stick, hoping it may possibly help deliver the answer she so desperately demanded. "God damn it." she mumbled, losing her patience quickly—if she hasn't already lost it that is.

A few seconds passed where her eyes would go astray from the significant piece of plastic and let the dark thoughts absorb her mind. How will she tell Toby if she is? Will she tell Toby? Will she get an abortion, and if so how will she even manage to do it—how will she be able to share the news with the man she loves that she killed their baby? And if she did go through with her pregnancy—how will her parents react? They'll probably exile her—force her to give up her surname, being too ashamed to share it with her. She shuddered at the thought. Maybe she wasn't even pregnant. Maybe she was being paranoid. She was only a few days late, er two weeks…and there was also the fact the last time her period ran irregularly, she was in middle school.

She let out a trembling sigh before returning her eyes to the plastic stick. Her heart stopped at the sight. There were the results—right in front of her; a pink plus sign. She was pregnant. There was something growing in her stomach—something that in nine months would potentially be popping out of her uterus, screaming and crying. Something that would develop ears and finger nails and legs and feet and eyes—something that would have a heartbeat; a small human being that she would bring into the world. It was inside her.

She didn't even notice till now that she was sobbing. Her breathing was shallow. She could hardly breathe. She needed to get a hold of herself. She needed to calm down. She needed to _breathe._

She repeated the procedure in her mind over and over again—_inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale_—until she finally felt she had control and her breathing settled. She adjusted the radar mirror so she could get a glimpse of herself. Her mascara had found its new settlement along her cheekbones—smeared now, and her eyes were hinting a pink hue, bordered with puffiness. She let out a small stifling sigh before rubbing the smears of mascara away from the area below her eyes. She reapplied her makeup—hoping it would make it would hide the fact she was bawling her eyes out moments before.

It managed to help. Enough anyways. She was just heading home after this. No one would notice—they never did. Besides the chance that anyone was home was slim.

She drove home, after ditching the plastic stick and throwing it out her window, with glossy eyes and the monotonous thoughts of what she was going to do now haunting her mind.

She came home, expecting no one to be home per usual. But, she was mistaken. Her sister, Melissa was sitting at the kitchen counter, sneaking a late night snack in, apparently. She was a few years older than Spencer, and she took residence in the barn. They weren't the closest of sisters, but they've had their moments.

"Oh, Spencer. You're coming in late."

Spencer just nodded, avoiding any discussion with her sister. She knew she could only keep her emotions on lock down about this for so long until she blew up yet again. She normally could bottle her feelings up with ease, but she was on a whole entire different level of emotion now. "Yeah…I was just with Toby."

Melissa nodded, "mom and dad went out awhile ago. And your secret's safe with me."

In any normal situation Spencer would have replied with some snarky comment about how her parents are _always _out and wouldn't know if she was gone for three days—but it wasn't a normal situation. She was too frail to even speak at the moment, not without sending out another round of sobs.

So she just nodded.

But, Melissa strangely seemed to notice her odd behavior. She asked her younger sister what was wrong, and the question enough was able to permit the shrill sob to escape her mouth, along with the secret of her pregnancy. Melissa comforted her about it, kept her in her embrace for a long time until Spencer was able to find her peace—for the time anyways.

"Spencer, it will be okay," Melissa pulled away from the hug, but kept her hands on her sister's forearms. "It'll be alright."

Spencer sniffled, shaking her head, not making contact with Melissa. "No… I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Does Toby know?"

She shook her head silently.

"Maybe you should start there." Melissa advised in the warmest tone she has heard her sister generate towards her.

"Spencer what's wrong?" Toby Cavanaugh asked her as she stepped into his loft, a somber frown keeping her beautiful smile hostage. "You sounded upset on the phone."

Spencer had ultimately taken her sister's advice after a couple days of thinking about it. She was going to tell Toby. She _needed _to tell Toby. She couldn't do this alone—she couldn't do this without him. She wasn't scared that he would abandon her that he would hear the word _'pregnant'_ and disappear. He wasn't like that. He _loved _her. He would be there for her. He wouldn't let her go through this alone. He would take her into his arms and whisper soothing statements into her ear until her heart was put to rest..

The reason she didn't want to tell him was because of the effect it would have on him. She could keep it to herself. She could just get an abortion, and he wouldn't have to live with the painful knowledge. He would never know. He would continue his days in the bliss of ignorance; happy as a clam. She knew he would go along with whatever she wanted to do—he respected her enough to do so, but she also knew it would kill him to see her entering that abortion clinic, pregnant, and coming out, _not._ But she couldn't go through this alone. She needed him.

"We need to talk."

He kept his eyes on her, his eyebrows ceasing in the slightest.

"You might want to sit down for this." She told him, meeting his eyes for the first time.

"Okay" he resigned, slightly flustered before following her demands and taking a seat on his sofa.

She followed behind him, but doesn't take a seat next to him. She paced around the space in front of the sofa, toying with her fingers. Did she just flat out say it or does she slide it into the conversation gradually? How the hell do even begin to slide into the conversation gradually though?

"Toby…" she halted her feet in front of her boyfriend, keeping her eyes plastered to her fidgeting hands clasped at her waist.

She gulped.

"I—I—um—was late…so I got a pregnancy test, and um—" her face stiffened, her tongue feeling limp. She took in a sharp breath through her nose, forcing herself to face him. "And…I'm…pregnant."

He sat there, staring at her blankly for at least two minutes before saying anything. "Are you—sure?" the words fumbled clumsily out of his mouth.

She nodded slowly, biting the inner flesh of her lip.

His eyes were away—trailing off into the depths of the unknown.

She took a seat next to him, angling her body so she was facing him. She let out a tiny sigh.

"What are we going to do?" he asked her after a moment, staring at her with intense gaze.

"I don't know" her voices rasped out softly.

They stared at each other for a moment. Both afraid—terrified out of their mind, and accompanied with the worry of where they would be in nine narrow months. They were still trying to figure out the world—trying to take control of their own lives. How were they supposed to take on the responsibility of another?

"What do you wanna do?" he asked after a couple minutes.

"I don't know" she repeated herself, the words barely leaving her mouth. She ducked her head down, shaking it frantically. "I don't—how did this happen? We were so careful…" she breathed out, her breathing nearly trembling.

He stiffed up a sort of half smile, sort of thing, before pulling her into him embrace. Her head fell into the creak of his neck with ease. He pressed his lips to the start of her hairline—leaving them there until they felt numb. "It's going to be okay, Spence. It's going to be okay, I promise you. I'll be there for you every step of the way—whatever you wanna do. We'll do this together. It will be all right."

A couple long days passed. Spencer didn't tell anyone else, she wasn't planning to until she knew what she was going to do. She knew she was nowhere suitable for this life—she couldn't be a mother, she didn't know how. She barely knew what a mother looked like—hers was practically inexistent. How was she supposed to be a good mother when she's never really had one of her own? Not one like her friends—or even Toby's who passed away a few years back. Her and her mother didn't get along—they never had. Their relationship died away a long time ago, and neither cared all too much to try and bring it back to life. She would probably be just as bad as her own mother at parenting—maybe even worse.

There was always adoption, but Spencer could hardly stand the thought of giving her own flesh and blood away to some stranger. When she was little she could hardly share her toys, there was no way in hell she would be willing to let someone steal her own creation. But she knew this—giving her baby up for adoption was the best choice among her options.

And finally, she decided she could _never _get an abortion. _That _would definitely define her as a worse candidate as a parent than her mother. The thought of taking a potential child's life—her child's life—made her sick. She knew she would never be able to forgive herself, and Toby too. He would go with her—be there for her—but he would never forgive her. Never _really _forgive her, anyway.

She didn't know what to do. What do you do when your only options are hanging of the branches of the undoable?

"Hey," her sister says, taking a step into her room—uninvited, but for once, Spencer is actually glad for her arrival.

"Hey," Spencer replies meekly, looking up at her.

Melissa takes a seat on the end of Spencer's bed. "You know, I remember when Mom was pregnant with you."

Spencer looks at her sister with slightly curious eyes.

"I was so excited to have a little sister, believe it or not."

It was a hard thing to believe. It seemed to Spencer, the second she came out of her mother's womb, Melissa swore to the Gods, she would make Spencer's life a living hell.

"The day you were born—I made a vow to myself that I would protect you," she looks at her sister, her dark matching eyes, serious "but I haven't been doing that great of a job, have I?"

Spencer just stared at her. Saying Melissa was doing a bad job would be an understatement. Last year she brought the murderer of Spencer's best friend into their house, and when Spencer tried to convince her family of his evil deeds, they were on the verge of renting her a room at the nearest mental hospital.

"Spencer, where I'm going with this is…if you do decide to go through with this, I'll be there for you. I'll protect you from Mom and Dad."

Spencer felt a small smile spanning out on her face. "I—I think I am going through with it."

Melissa sat, wide eyed at the end of her bed for a moment, dazing in pure shock.

"Is it really that shocking?"

"…no." A tiny sketch of a smile coated her sister's lips. "I could never picture you—you know, getting rid of it. You care too much to do that."

Spencer nodded stiffly.

"You know, you're going to have to tell them."

"Tell who what?" Her father came in, a jolly grin fabricated on his face.

"Um nothing!"

"Oh, well! I just wanted to remind you about that appointment with Professor Angus tomorrow. You have everything you are going to say planned out, right?"

Her father was referring to an interview with the dean of one of the many ivy colleges she applied to. It was Hastings destiny to go to U-Penn, but her parents told her that if she acted as if she was interested in other schools, the scholarship to U-Penn would triple in value.

Spencer pasted a fraud smile to her face and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I got it figured out."

"Knock em' dead!" he encouraged her. "Well, don't stay up too late. You want to be alert tomorrow" her father advised before leaving the two daughters to their lonesome.

Melissa just gave her a pointed look after her father's departure. She knew Melissa well enough to know what it meant. She needed to tell her parents, but first, she would have to tell Toby.

She opened the door to reveal a very anxious Toby. She had called him and told him they needed to talk, in person. Apparently Toby had gotten the drift that '_we need to talk' _was the phrase of death. "Is everything all right?" he asked her, walking inside the grand ol' entrance of his girlfriend's house.

It wasn't a question that Spencer really knew how to answer. Was everything OK? No, not really. But it wasn't downright terrible, so she guesses it was OK. "Yeah, everything's…fine."

He let out a small sigh of relief, closing the door behind him.

She flung her arms around him when his body was once again in correlation with hers. She pressed her face into his shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of saw dust and laundry detergent. He carried these odors with him everywhere he went, sometimes even leaving them behind on her pillow when he slept over. When her nostrils were filled with these familiar smells, she felt safe and secure, like nothing else could touch her or bring her down. Although, she knew it wasn't the scent that was doing that for her.

"I'm gonna do this…" she murmured into him. She pulled away from his embrace, but his hands did not leave her body. "I'm going to go through with it."

A moment of uncertainty fell upon her. She could not read his vacant expression. She had no idea where his thoughts lied. But, it didn't last long. He was soon sporting a tiny half smile and pulling her into his tight hold. She rested her head against his hard chest and closed her eyes because for a blissful second, everything seemed it would be okay.

"I won't let you go through this alone" he told her. "I'll be with you, wherever you need me—whenever you need me. Even if it is at four O'clock in the morning, I'll be there."

She smiled, actually _really _smiled at his words. She was so lucky to have him. In most scenarios, the guy would be running for the hills—and that wasn't just a generalization! Statistics have proven it to be a fact! But, Toby would never leave her. He would never run off on her. She didn't need him to provide her the comforting words of promise; she already knew he would be there for her. She could count on him, probably more than anyone, to keep her gathered and in one piece. He was her consistency and constant and everything she needed, especially right now.

"I know you will," she inched away from him to look into his deep blueberry eyes "you're always there for me, Toby. It's not really a new thing."

He smiled at her before pressing a feathery kiss in the mid of her forehead.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Spencer sat in front of her very impatient and anxious parents, whose faces looked as hard as stone. Her sister sat next to her just in case things got too bad. Spencer had told Toby to just stay behind. Her dad would surely be ready to kill him in an instant. He wouldn't even waste his time getting his hidden gun from his office; he would do it with his bare hands, while her mother gripped Spencer by the ear and dragged her to her room for all eternity. It would just make it one hundred times worse. Toby seemed to be not as pleased with this plan as Spencer. He wanted to be there for her, as always, but eventually he caved and admitted defeat, promising he would keep his distance from the Hastings household for the time being.

"Well, Spencer, get on with it" her mother urged her, the roughness in her voice only hitching her anxiety even more.

She took in a breath. Never in her life did she think she would be under these circumstances. Hell, she never really saw herself losing her virginity in high school. She wasn't just some slut—contrary to what Aria's mother may think—who gave it up to anyone. She was waiting for someone special, someone who just might last. She never thought she would find that person in high school, but then Toby Cavanaugh came into her life and her whole world took a spin. She gave it up to him because in her heart she knew he was the one, and well…patience wasn't on the listen of her best virtues. But they were so safe. _Beyond safe._ Spencer even kept track of the days where she was most fertile and made sure not to cross the boundaries on those days. Her friend, Hanna, had told Spencer once that she and her boyfriend didn't even use a condom once—it was in the moment, she said. But Hanna was baby-free!

"I'm—pregnant."

Her parents sat silent, both looking at her with harder glares than before.

"Spencer, this isn't funny" her mother finally produced a noise.

"Do I sound like I'm joking?"

Her mother's eyes widened, her lips pursing into a reaction of disgust. Her father came over to her, taking the empty seat beside her. He put a tense hand on her arm, "It's going to be all right, Spencer." At first Spencer thought, that just maybe, there was some hope. Hope that her parents would understand she needed support. She needed them to be there for her. But no, like always, hope failed her. "We can fix this mistake."

Spencer had to let the statement sink in for a second to digest it. Was her father really suggesting this? Was he really trying to make this decision for her? She was disgusted. "This isn't just some mistake!" she knocked his hand away from her. "We want to have this baby!"

"Spencer, now listen to your father. Be rational about this. This thing could ruin your life!" her mother hissed.

"Be rational? Do you not think I've thought about it? Do you think I planned to get pregnant at 18 years old?" she snapped.

"No, of course not. Accidents can happen—I didn't peg you as someone who would make such a idiotic mistake, but—" her father said, still calm.

"We were careful!"

"Well, obviously not careful enough!" her father remarked, a sort dark humorous tone to his voice.

Her mother gave him a pointed look.

"Spencer, you have to think about what you are doing."

"I am. I have."

Her mother just starred at her. Her big matching brown eyes filling with the ultimate disgust.

"Is this that Cavanaugh boy's idea? To have this baby, and ruin your life?"

"What?!" she looked at him in absurdity. "What are you even suggesting?"

"Did he manipulate you? Force himself on you? This is just so unlike you."

Spencer didn't even realize till now that there were tears freely falling off her face. "No! Of course not!" she spat, hysterically.

"Now Spencer, calm down. Think straight. We'll get this straightened out. Your mother will call the abortion clinic—"

"No! Did you not just hear me? _I'm having this baby_."

Her parents, once again, just starred at her. Her father was no longer calm, but about to burst.

Melissa put a hand on Spencer.

She almost forgot she was there. Normally, in family meetings, Melissa would participate in the let's-all-nag-on-Spencer-and-tell-her-how-much-of- a-dissapointment-she-is meetings, which in their words, was called _family meetings. _But Melissa, apparently, was on her side now.

"You should go" she mouthed, squeezing her hand.

Spencer nodded stiffly, stepping up from the couch, which evidentially led to the screams her parents. But she just ignored them, and ran out. She didn't even think about where she was going she just went there.

He opened the door and immediately noticed her puffy pink eyes and weighing frown, and braced her into his hold, squeezing out the rest of her bottled up tears.

They sat on his couch awhile later. She was leaning into him, his arm fastened around her and her legs propped up on the couch. She told him the tale of her parent's reaction, which resulted in him saying _"I knew I should have gone with you,"_ and her replying: _"It wouldn't have made any difference, it would probably be worse, really."_

They sat there for a long time, not saying anything to each other. No words were needed to be spoken. Toby just being there for her, having his arms around her, and his hand entangled with hers, was enough.

"I don't know what I was expecting from them…I knew they would be pissed and disappointed and ashamed, but—I don't know. I didn't think they were that bad of people, I guess. I didn't think they would try and make the decision for me…try and demolish this thing inside me."

"I'm sorry Spence…" he said softly, squeezing her hand to possible transfer his warmness into her. But she wasn't cold because of the temperature. He couldn't just pass on his heat to her. It was bigger than that.

"It's not your fault…I just, sometimes wish I had, a real family. You know?"

"Yeah…" his eyes trailed off for a moment. "If that's what you really want, then maybe we can have that" he suggested, his voice lighter now. Lighter than it's been in days, really. He sounded hopeful. "maybe we can keep this baby. We can have our own family."

Spencer had to squirm around in his arms in order to look at him. His oceanic eyes were still and serious, dead set on her. "Do you really think we could do it?"

"Have you ever failed at anything?"

A half smile crossed her face, "I'm serious."

"Me too."

Her caramel eyes wavered between his. He was telling the truth. He actually believed they could pull this off. That they could be a family.

"I want to…I want that…so badly, but—" she turned her head to the side, frowning. "I just," she gulped. "I'm afraid…" she admitted, meeting his charismatic eyes once more.

"I am too" he confessed. "It's going to be hard, really hard, but I think we could do it. You'll be done with High School in couple months, and then you can, I don't know, talk to U-Penn, about starting early. You could go to school until it's too much for you, and I can work more hours, and maybe even get a part time job down at the brew. We could make this work. It will be hard, but I think we could do it."

The corners of her lips tugged up into a smile "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay" her smile broadened, carrying out a small laugh.

He pressed his lips against hers, their smiles morphing and fading into each other's in pleasure.

They were ignorant to how challenging their future would be, but like they say, ignorance is bliss.


	2. Chapter 2

a/n: thank you soooo soooo sooo much for the reviews, they honestly make my day :) so keep em' coming! I also want to apologize in advance for any grammatical errors because I know this is going to contain a couple!

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Chapter 2

Spencer sprawls around on the bed, moving her hands all and about, trying to find her honey beau. She keeps her eyes closed as her hands roam around on the, much to her dismay, cool vacant sheets. She lets out a small pathetic whimper before rolling over, and sadly, running into nothing but the empty air. She opens her eyes slowly, grimacing when the light beamed upon her. Even though she knew he would not be there, she can't help but frown when noticing she is alone and he is nowhere to be found. She feels needy and foolish and cliché, but waking up to him is like, waking up on a Saturday or to the smell of fresh brewing coffee or to an alarm clock that read two hours before the time you needed to be up, all combined. It is perfect and lovely and composed. They say breakfast is the most important meal of the day because it gives you the energy and guidance to start your day off right, well; Toby kind of does that too, just in a more effective nature. Sure, his smell surrounds her and all the things that once touched his body, are touching hers, but it isn't the same. It isn't the real deal. It is artificial. It helps fill the gaps left inside her while he is astray, but the gaps stay still, unmoving, unwilling to close until he makes himself present.

She flings her legs over the bed where her feet meet the hard wood floor. She stretches her arms out, like Toby's kitten would do, and yawned, tiredly, before stepping up and making her way out of the small bedroom. She takes a few steps and is already in the kitchen area. On the fridge there is a note.

_My boss really needed me at work, I'm sorry._

_I'll be back by 12._

- _T_

Spencer's lower lip canvasses out as she tears the note of the fridge. It is only 10. What is she supposed to do for two hours? Maybe more? Toby isn't nearly as good with time as he likes to think he is.

She couldn't go home…not after last night.

_~*-;**the night before**;-*~_

"You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"Well, it's not really that I'm dying to do this or anything, but I'm not going to let you do it alone."

"I'm capable, Toby."

"I know you are. But, you see, you may be capable of dealing with all the shit your parents give you. But_I'm not. _They shouldn't be allowed to treat you like that."

Spencer looked over at her boyfriend behind the steering wheel of the car she had given to him awhile back. He looked so serious, but also gentle and kind. As if he was promising her an unspoken oath that he would never let her parents tarnish her name again. Or their baby, for that matter. She rested a hand over his and squeezed it gently, offering a little smile to him.

He didn't say anything back; he just sat there for a moment, looking at her, and their hands. He got up after a few seconds and abandoned her and the truck. She didn't know why, but she waited there for a moment before following. She didn't know if it was because the world was just moving too fast for her to keep up, or if it because she wanted to live in this moment of realization a little bit longer. A realization that Toby Cavanaugh had given up his once known world awhile ago, and traded it for her.

Once they were inside, it began to feel dreary and unwelcome. Even though it was a warm summer night, it felt cold and shrilling. The house itself was gloomy and desolate and Spencer knew her parents were probably somewhere on the level above, brewing on about one thing or another (most likely her pregnancy).

She untangled her arm out of Toby's and told him she would be back in a minute. He wanted to go up with her, but she told him to stay, so he did. Upstairs, her parents were fighting. About her. She didn't quite know what the fight was truly about because she had stopped it instead of east dropping.

She somehow persuaded her parents into coming downstairs, having a drink of coffee (it was 9:30 at night, but at the Hasting house it may as well have been AM) and having a real discussion about her being pregnant. They were reluctant to do so, but eventually gave in to their daughter's pleas, and followed her down stairs. Although once her father saw Toby sitting on their living room couch, he practically went up into flames.

His feet were lightning as he traveled down the staircase, his voice coming out like thunder. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE? WHAT GAVE YOU A GOD DAMN IDEA THAT YOU ARE WELCOME HERE, HUH?"

Toby stood up at the words, flaring his chest out, and narrowing his crisp hurricane eyes his way. Spencer immediately stepped in, getting past her father, and shielding her foolish, but caring, boyfriend. Their hands found each other's and entwined almost mindlessly.

Spencer stood between them, blocking her father's fist from colliding with Toby's face.

"SPENCER, DON'T GET IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS" her father's words launched out, spit following quickly behind. He wasn't looking at her though; his murderous eyes were still locked on the boy behind her.

"I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS!" her words came out, louder and angrier than she planned.

Her mother came up behind her father, tugging him away from the couple, mumbling something along the lines of "come on, Peter. Someone's going to get hurt."

Although the glare in her mother's eyes wasn't kind or gentle, it was almost matching the venom in her father's.

"Spencer, I want you to go up to your room, and I want THIS LITTLE PRICK OUT OF MY HOUSE" his arm flew up, his finger pointed to the door.

"We came here to talk."

"We already talked the other day!" her father said, his words like swords, jabbing into her skin and ripping her apart.

"We didn't talk. You did. I didn't get a say."

"That's because you're a child, Spencer! You don't know what's best for you."

"And you think you know what's best for her?" Toby challenged behind her.

"LISTEN, CAVANAUGH. YOU LEAVE HERE. YOU GET OUT, NOW!" her father once again pounced forward, causing Spencer to shield her boyfriend yet again.

"Come on, Toby," she told him, lacing their hands together once more, tugging on him to leave the Hastings abode.

"YOU WANT TO RUIN YOUR LIFE AND HAVE THIS THING?" her father began to yell, going after them, which motioned them to begin to run as they stepped at the door. He followed behind them to the outside of the house, "FINE, BUT DON'T EXPECT TO COME BACK HERE WHEN EVERYTHING GOES TO HELL!"

The words collided with her ears as they hopped in the truck. She saw her mother come outside through the corner of her eye, pulling on her father to come back in. But like always, he didn't listen to his wife. He ran closer to them, and as they pulled out, smashed his hands against the passenger window where Spencer sat, a look of death captured on his face.

~*;-;*~

She doesn't know why she ever thought her parents would take a second thought to the matter. These are the same people who practically disowned her after she stole her sister's essay and then confessed to it when she was about to get a noble prize for it. They weren't really mad about her plagiarizing, they were mad that she dishonored their family's name. This is just another dishonor. Another mark on the perfection that her family consisted of. Of course they want to pretend it never happened. Scrub away the mark before anyone else could notice. She shouldn't be so disappointed. She shouldn't be upset over this. It is so typical of them.

Toby told her that she could stay here. That she probably would have moved in anyways, sooner or later. But she has been sporting Toby's clothes and the few clothes she has left here in the past, for the last few days. She needs her clothes. She needs her things.

They probably aren't even home—they never are. Maybe she could call Melissa, make sure of her parent's absence, and go over there to collect her things.

Without giving it a second thought, she pulls out her phone and dials Melissa's number, hoping to arrive to good news.

Melissa tells her, surprise surprise, that her parents left awhile ago and probably won't be back till later tonight.

Spencer takes this as a prompt to get herself ready for the day and head to her, she guesses, once home. It only takes her a few minutes to pull something together, considering she doesn't really have many options. She pulls her hair up into a pony and heads out the door.

When she gets to her house, she is alarmed by her mother sitting in the family room, sipping a cup of, presumably coffee. She is about to turn around and flee to her car, but her mother catches her in the window and hurries over.

She opens the door in a swift movement, and talks quickly. "Spencer, don't go. Come in, talk to me. Your father is out. I asked Melissa to tell you I was too because I know you wouldn't come if you knew I was here."

Spencer looks at her mother, wearily, not taking a step back or a step forth.

"Spencer, please. I don't agree with everything your father says."

She looks around warily, biting her lip, and pondering on her decision to have, yet another, conversation about all this.

"Fine" Spencer agrees, stepping inside.

They take their seats on the couch, and her mother offers her some tea, (Spencer was wrong about the coffee) but Spencer declines. Her mother sounds calm. She no longer looks like a killer mountain lion eyeing its prey.

"Spencer, I don't want you to get the impression that I am OK with all this, but I don't want you to think you are no longer welcome if you choose to do what you want to do."

"Yeah, well…dad made it pretty clear that he wanted nothing to do with me."

"Your father is just angry. He'll get over it. Look, Spencer. You're right. This is _your _choice. We can't tell you what to do, but if you are going to go through this, I'm not going to let you sink yourself." Her mother tells her, her words smooth and almost caring. The elder turned her body around on the couch and dug her hands out of her purse, pulling out an envelope. Her mother slapped her hands over her daughters, the envelope drawing the line between their palms. She looked at her curious daughter with a certain sincerity that Spencer hasn't seen in awhile. "I want you to take this, it will help you get started."

"Mom, I don't want your money."

"It's not _my _money. It's _yours."_

Spencer gave her a look of confusion.

"It is part of your inheritance."

"That's nice…" Spencer retorted sarcastically, glancing away, about to take her hands away.

Her mother holds on to the top of her daughter's hand, "Spencer take it. It will help you. Don't look at as my money; look at it as the money you'd be getting anyways in another 35 years."

She shakes her head a little, and bit her lip. "I can't."

"You can pay me back when you are ready, Spencer. But don't be foolish. Take the money."

Spencer gulps, hesitantly taking the envelope from her. She doesn't need to look inside, she knew her mother probably supplied enough to buy a brand new car.

She lets her eyes fall on the envelope and licks her lips nervously. "Thank you," she manages to say, glancing a view at her almost smiling mother.

"Just—promise me, whatever is going on between you and your father that you'll let me see him, or her."

She offers a little smile, too, nodding "Okay."

"So, have you decided, by the way? Whether or not you're giving it for adoption or keeping it?"

"Um, yeah. We're going to try and make it work, I don't really trust anyone else, you know?"

Her mother's eyebrows bounce up.

"What?"

"I just really hope that you can make it work" her mother tells her solemnly.

She arches up another tiny smile, "me too."

The rest of the morning continued smoothly as it started. When Spencer told her mother she would much rather stay with Toby than a room down from her father, her mother seemed to understand. After Spencer gathered most of her things she really needed, her mother gave her a hug, and told her to try and find a way to forgive her father. Although Spencer wasn't sure how she would be capable of such a thing, not after everything he has said and done.

She goes to the bank after leaving her house, or old house (?), and opens a joint account to put the money in that she would later tell Toby of. He will probably be mad at first, but hopefully he will understand.

When she comes home, Toby is standing in the middle of the kitchen. He is making a fresh pot of coffee and humming along to the tune of _Viva La Vida_ by Cold Play. He is so engrossed in his work that Spencer doesn't even think he notices when she steps through the door, not until she closes it, making a thump.

"Oh, hey, I was wondering where you scampered off to," he comes up to her, leaving the coffee behind, and giving her an innocent kiss on the lips. "I made coffee" he says, close to her still, his tune almost humming.

"Do you know of the old myth about coffee while you're pregnant?"

"I think I've heard of it."

"Well, yeah. Recent studies show that it is perfectly fine to have two or three cups of coffee a day, so as long they are 8 oz. , or less, each."

"So, basically you can have a half of your usual cup?"

She pushed into his chest, narrowing her copper eyes on him in a playful, sort of matter. "Don't. This is a very serious matter."

"Yup, very serious," he laughs. "I think you're going to kill me."

"Of course not sweetie," she touched his cheek, "who else is going to pick me up frozen yogurt at 2 AM."

He shakes his head away from her touch and bobs his eyebrows, "do you want coffee or not, because I'll drink it all."

"That sounds like a good way of getting yourself killed." Spencer challenges him, stepping on her tippy toes to get more in his face and to place a feathery kiss on nose.

He kisses her again on the lips, wrapping his arms around her, and squeezing her tight. "So, where were you anyway?" he asks, smelling the familiar scent of her shampoo.

"Um," she steps out of the hug "to my house, actually."

He gives her an odd look, "Spencer—"

"Melissa told me no one was home, but my mom was actually there, but it sort of went well, oddly enough."

He just keeps looking at her, which means he wants her to elaborate.

"My mom said that she didn't agree with my dad, and she wanted to help."

"Help how?"

"Fifteen grand worth."

"Fifteen thousand dollars?!" he asked, his face twisting into something along the definition of bewilderment.

"Well, yeah, that's what fifteen grand means…"

"Spencer!" he takes a step back, shaking his head.

"Look, I was a little put off at first, too. But it will really help out!" she steps towards him.

He looks at her, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "How will we ever have enough money to pay them back? Did you ever think of that?"

"Of course I did! Look, when we get on our feet, we can do it at little portions at a time. But the point is, is that we need this now." She takes his hand. He gives her a weary look, "Do you really think I would tie myself to them like this if I didn't think it was necessary?"

He drops his head down, licking his lips. A sigh collapses out of his mouth along with the soft words of "all right, I'm sure we'll figure it out."

~*;-;*~

The months passed quickly. Spencer's stomach grew more and more, which caused her to pout, but with a guy like Toby to remind you everyday of how wonderfully beautiful you are, Spencer guesses it wasn't so bad. Spencer's morning sickness faded along with the warmth of the weather, and by September it was long gone. She begun to take classes at U-Penn in late June, and Toby and her were now looking for an apartment closer to the university. It is now evident that she was on the way to motherhood with her stomach bulging out, and they now knew the gender of their baby. Girl.

They sit on their sofa in the beginning of October, the windows slightly ajar, and a blanket wrapped around them. Spencer has a half cup of spice pumpkin latte in her hand, and a Toby in the other. He toys with her fingers, and with her hair. She almost feels bad because of how much weight she was putting on him by leaning against him. She is five months pregnant, she can't be too light. But he doesn't complain, and she is being selfish, so she stays there in the warm comfortable spot of his arms.

The movie begins, and the beginning always makes her cry. Toby isn't really paying attention to the movie though, he seems to find more interest in the lines and patterns and maps of her palms. Her eyes skip over Toby and their hands and then the TV like a rock would go over water, when the idea strikes her mind. "Ellie."

"What?"

"We should name her Ellie."

He sits there for a second, pondering the idea. He knows where the name was from of course. He has seen_UP _probably, not as many times as Spencer, but just about, considering she usually asked him to watch it with her. "Ellie," he repeats, his voice light and dense like a feather.

"Ellie Cavanaugh." Spencer says proudly. They had decided to go with the Toby's last name. Spencer didn't really want her daughter to have to be a Hastings. Spencer knew she wished to never be a Hastings. Why should she set the toll on her daughter?

"I like it." Toby says, admiringly.

"Me too."

"Ellie Cavanaugh." Toby repeats, mostly to himself, anyways.

Spencer ends up dozing off half way through the movie. Toby is going to move her to their bed, but she looks so placid and peaceful. It's not every day that you can associate those adjectives with her, considering she was strung out almost all the time.

He scoops her up in her arms after a consecutively long time and manages to void of waking her up….until he places her on the bed.

She makes a few squeamish noises, and readjusts herself a little, before opening her eyes. Once her vision finds her, a placid smile arranges on her features. "I fell asleep?"

He smacks his lips together; a frame of a smile bordering his lips, and nods.

"UGH!" she groans in an almost a playful matter, rolling over on her side, smacking her face into a pillow.

He laughs, sitting on the edge of the bed, and resting a hand on her hip.

"It's fine," he tells her, before leaning in and whispering, "I won't tell you what happens."

She rolls back over so she is on her back and his face is above her. The smile on her face is vibrant and steady, and the glint in her eye is all the things sweet and lovely. She takes his hand that had been on her hip moments ago, in both of her hands, and places it on her stomach.

"I love you" Toby reminds her.

"I love you too."

* * *

a/n: yes i know i ended it the same way, shhh it was on purpose. BUT WHAT DID YOU THINK?


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